Broken
by BlackWolfOfBlueMoon
Summary: Living without Gilbert has taken a toll on Ludwig. How can he move on without his brother? Fail summary. Will be a multichapter. This is a dark fanfiction so read at your own risk. Read and Review please! Rating will change.
1. Chapter 1

Ludwig's heart pounded in his chest as he ran through the mud, voices, high and shrill with anger shouted after him. They were getting louder, closer. Suddenly his boot slipped from under himself, the German leaning forward before landing on his chest. Gasping for breath, he clawed at the earth feebly, digging his nails into the cold dirt below. He struggled frantically as he began to sink, the mud engulfing him. His eyes widened in fear; he was being dragged down to hell itself. The blonde opened his mouth to scream, succeeding only in choking on mud and water, tasting strangely of iron. Blood.

When the wild struggle was over he opened his eyes, immediately flinching, and retreating back from the barrel of a shining pistol. Ludwig's mouth hung open in silent horror as he locked eyes with the one holding the gun. Gilbert. Tears were streaming down the albino's face as the gun slowly followed Ludwig's movements as he stood. Behind the Prussian, Russia grinned. Amethyst eyes flashed in malice as his meaty hand dug into the silver haired man's shoulder.

The massive Eastern nation leaned into Gilbert's ear, making ruby eyes go wide. Ludwig strained to hear what the Russian had whispered but failed. blue eyes flicked back to his brother. Cerulean locked with Ruby red. The Prussian only shook his head as a painful expression crossed his features. His lips parted slowly, mouthing 'I'm sorry'. Quickly Gilbert turned the gun on himself. The trigger was pulled. Ludwig's scream was drown out by the sound of the gunshot. Ivan's eyes narrowed in displeasure, kicking the Prussian's body into a nearby ditch at the blonde's feet.

Anger grew within Ludwig as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the pale skin of his palms, decorating them with red blood. He lunged for the Russian. Below him, the ditch seemed to stretch and grow; he fell in. Looking back up as flames surrounded him; he realized he was no longer outside. He was now in a large brick building, surrounded by flames. Ash and bone littered the ground. He strained to see through the smoke burning his eyes and lungs. Tears stung his eyes as he searched for Gilbert. He was gone.

_ 

_Tic… Tic… Tic… _Minutes passed. The dark room was silent save for the man's shallow, ragged breathing and the wall clock's constant ticking. Cold sweat covered the quivering German in beads as he sat in his upright position, rigid and unmoving. It was only a dream. No. It was _that_ dream. That… _Nightmare_. It had been years since he'd had that one. The clock ticked on as Ludwig recovered his breathing. Sweat dripped down his face as the time dragged on. Each second was longer than the last. The ticking echoed in his ears. Dull blue eyes stared at the dark wall without seeing.

The first rays of sunlight shone through the closed glass window. He still sat unmoving. Finally, the blonde stopped shaking enough to lay his head in his hands. His teeth grit together in anger and frustration. No Gilbert. He was gone. He'd been gone for years now. So why did he keep having that dream? Why was the loneliness lingering everywhere he went? The empty house that Gilbert and he had once lived together in was only fueling his misery.

How could a house—an inanimate object fuel misery? The same way a picture can. The same way that a bedside nightstand could. The same way a holiday alone could. A Christmas, a birthday, a New Year's, a Thanksgiving. Only days. Days that Ludwig had lost count of. There was no Gilbert. There was no light. No more war. Emptiness. Nothing. Meaningless. The German felt wilted and fragile without the man he'd spent all his life with. His brother. His lover. His mentor and his best friend. How could one god be so cruel to take that all away from him?

He scoffed. He couldn't blame god. He'd brought this on himself. It was his fault. He started the war without thinking of the price. His debt was paid though he wasn't the one that had paid it. Letting out a shaking breath, he rose and clenched his fists. Another day. Another sun. Another smile he had to fake. It was routine. Another day in the life of Ludwig Beilschmidt. Another day as a soldier.

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_**I apologize deeply for my absence on other stories and lack of updating but I have decided to use the little time—20 minutes a day (roughly and only on weekdays) to update and post. Progress will be slow but I ask you do please be patient with me. Schooling is taking a toll on my nerves and is also consuming my free time. Thank you for your patience. Please review, I love feedback. It lets me know I'm doing a good job.  
**_**  
- BlackWolfOfBlueMoon**


	2. Mirror

The daily routine was nothing new to him. Get up out of bed. Get dressed. Attend whatever pointless meeting there was to address that day. Go home. Paperwork. Sleep. It was simple, especially for a drone. Ludwig had become one of these. He didn't complain; he had nothing to complain about. Still, even if he was content with this lifestyle of routine, as he had always been, even when his brother was still with him, the other nations did take notice of the actions. However, they all knew that it was pointless to try to change the German. Even Feliciano, Ludwig's ally in the war hadn't had the courage to speak to Ludwig about his behavior. In fact, they hadn't really spoken outside of meetings since the war. Not that Romano would let them anyways.

Ludwig swung his legs out of bed, mechanically. His feet shuffled along the cold floor slowly as he made his way to the bathroom. It was the middle of autumn so the floors were drafty. Despite the cold the blonde refused to turn on the heat. In years prior to this, he always let the house get chilly on purpose. Gilbert had always crawled into bed with him for warmth. Ludwig nearly smiled at this thought but stopped when he felt his lips twitching upward. His face hardened again as he reached the mirror. His lips automatically formed a thin line, almost a scowl. The man in the mirror did the same.

The man in the mirror. Not Ludwig. That wasn't him. The man in the mirror was sickly pale with dead grey eyes, having dark rings under them. The man in the mirror had thin, frowning lips and a hateful look to his features. No. That man was not Ludwig. Ludwig had bright blue eyes and a stern but kind air to him. Ludwig was not this cold. Or was he..? No. This was not him. The man in the mirror was different.

Ludwig allowed his eyes to lower as he stared into the sink. He shook the thoughts out of his head and left the small bathroom. Walking briskly to the closet, the man gathered his clothing for the day and dressed himself. Simple and easy. Once done with that he shuffled downstairs and started a pot of coffee. Old habits die hard. Even in the man's depression he'd always found time for coffee. His addiction, like cigarettes. He didn't know why. But he didn't question it. It was normal, one of the only things he hadn't lost about his old self.

The morning was dull grey. Mist drifted in slowly from the hills, covering the green in a thick, smoky white cloud. Though it was cold, it was one of the seasons Ludwig loved. Used to love. The green leaves were changing. Vibrant reds, yellows, oranges and pinks decorated the trees now. Soon the leaves would turn brown and die with the cold of winter. He always hated winter. The bitter cold, the sickness, and the white it spread like a disease… The death.

In his mind's eye he could still see the vast snow covered lands that stretched on for eternity. He could see that not all snow was white. Some snow was red. Some snow was covered in red and the bodies of fallen soldiers. Some snow was black with soot. But all snow was cold. There was no denying that. No matter how blood soaked it was, the snow was always cold. That's what Ludwig remembered.

He sipped his coffee silently, staring out the window at the hills. It would rain. So be it. Rain was nothing new. Not lately anyways. Birds noisily chattered to one another as if they'd been up for hours though the sun had just risen. The German tapped his forefinger against the warm ceramic coffee mug he held before dumping the rest of its contents in the sink.

He left the kitchen, taking slow steps to the hallway and to his home office. There he gathered his papers together in neat stacks, paper clipping them and placing them into his briefcase. Checking his watch he grabbed his keys and stuffed them into his pocket before closing his briefcase and heading to the door. Taking one last look at his tidy home, he turned and went out the door, locking it and heading off the porch to his car.

The black, polished sedan was waiting for its master in the drive as always. The morning was crisp and wet but it was morning all the same. Ludwig didn't linger for long, instead, opting to get in the car and put the key in the ignition. He pulled out of the drive and left. 

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_**Again I do apologize for short chapters, unfortunately it's the only way I can update with relative speed. So please review, it lets me know I'm doing a good or bad job. I know this fanfic is kind of iffy..? Or choppy. I'm not sure how to word it. There will be a lot of flashbacks in the next chapter though so it may get a bit confusing and I do apologize for that. Thank you for your condolences.**_

**- BlackWolfOfBlueMoon**


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